


Demesne Demure (abandoned)

by baebel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ABO, Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha Will Graham, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, manipulative relationship (both sides)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:06:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baebel/pseuds/baebel
Summary: In the modern era, the typical American alpha will spend their life on suppressants until mated to, in most cases, an omega. Will doubts this will ever happen for him though, and it wasn't just because of his often off-putting personality. He has no interest in omegas or betas, and until the arrival of Hannibal, has little interest in sex or -god forbid- romance as a whole. Because of the way he holds himself and the heavy suppressants he uses to mask his pheromones, he's often assumed a beta. However, his real gender doesn't seem to be a problem for Dr. Lecter.





	1. Oration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LowlyRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LowlyRose/gifts).



Will Graham had never felt particularly comfortable seated in Jack Crawford's office. The warm, caramel-coloured walls that surrounded him did little to ease his nerves, and he couldn't help feeling as though the space was too small for two men. Then, as if to spite him, along came a third.  
He entered almost silently, and Will only noticed his presence when an unfamiliar voice took advantage of the lull in conversation to address Jack in regards to the latest string of murders that Will refused to enjoy dissecting. His only solace was the mug nestled in his lap. Jack made himself inescapable from Will’s view, straightening his tie as he explained that a photo of the latest body had been taken using a cellphone and was now circulating from blog to blog. A single word slid from Will's lips before he occupied them with the rim of his mug. “Tasteless.” 

The response he received wasn't from Jack, but rather the third man that until now has taken little notice of Will. “Do you have trouble with taste?” He inquired with a tone that suggested he was cocky, so much so that he considered the question to be entirely reasonable. An Alpha, then. A glance to the side confirmed Will’s suspicions, and he swallowed his mouthful of coffee as his gaze settled upon the man's hands. Large. Well-manicured. Uncalloused. 

He placed his cup down and allowed himself to respond. “My thoughts are often not tasty.”

“Nor mine.” Hannibal chimed in. After only a moment of Will’s silence, he continued. “No effective barriers.” The man’s steady gait carried him towards the desk at which the two others were seated, and Will was forced to turn his attention away. A heavy sigh ensued before his response was given.  
“I build forts.” Was his first attempt at relating to the man. It was meant as a stab at his own defense mechanisms that he expected to be returned in kind, or at the very least earn a half-hearted chuckle for his efforts. He was granted neither. 

“Associations come quickly.”

“So do forts.” Will replied immediately.

Hannibal lowered himself into the chair beside Will, taking up his own drink and letting it linger centimeters from his lips, observing the man beside him as he did so. He seemed awfully interested in the dull, brown liquid that occupied his mug. “Not fond of eye contact, are you?” he asked.  
He received another sigh, the second from Will in the last minute, and a weak answer. “Eyes are distracting. You see too much, you don't see enough… and- and it’s hard to focus when you're thinking, uh, ‘oh, those whites are really white,’ or ‘he must have hepatitis,’ or ‘is that a burst vein?” Surprisingly enough, this was the remark that elicited the half-hearted chuckle Will had been aiming for. “So. Yeah. I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.” He finished rather blandly, turning away from the alpha and back towards Jack, seeking his attention. 

Hannibal wasn’t finished, though. He found Will far too intriguing not to probe further. “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present, yet shocked at your associations.” When Will turned back to him, his eyes weren’t quite certain where to focus. Hannibal continued, eyes locked on the men in front of him. “Appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”

Will shuddered. From the manner in which he spoke, Hannibal briefly wondered if his eyes might well over. “Whose profile are you working on?” he asked, then turned to Jack and repeated the words to reassure himself his alarm was justified. Jack didn’t respond, suspending Will in disbelief. Hannibal adjusted his suit and began his disappointed apology.

“I’m sorry, Will.” He said. “Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.”

Will wasn’t convinced Hannibal had the same lack of control he did. He was dressed impeccably, his hair smoothed against his skull in a style that until now, Will had thought impossible to make look good, and the manner in which he carried himself and spoke denoted a control of self through which he executed all aspects of his life. The comparison was almost insulting on Hannibal's part. “Please, don't psychoanalyze me.” He turned to Jack, pinning him with a warning stare that had no effect on the man. “You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” 

Jack firmly spoke his first name once in an attempt to deter him.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Will started, standing from his chair and heading towards the door, “I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalysis.” He left, still cradling his mug in both hands. 

Hannibal expected his mind to be vacated of Will as soon as he left the room, only that wasn’t the case. The small, average-looking man was stuck fast in his brain. It was an odd sensation which he rarely felt, but nonetheless had encountered before. Most alphas around his age had already bonded and this was the perfect excuse for Hannibal to attribute his fascination to. In all his previous cases, it had been a matter of getting to know the person better and then finding out they weren’t as interesting as his instincts had led him to believe. He thought it would be awfully optimistic of himself to expect a lover that held the same twisted morals as himself, and Hannibal was not an optimistic person.

Despite his above-all thought processes though, he still had hormones the same as any alpha, hormones that pushed him, and they pushed him to find a partner. So, he began to find ways he could weave himself into Will's life. With his flowing words and references to fine art he’d managed to convince both Jack and Will that an informal session was in Will's best interest.

And so, a week later, the two men met at Hannibal's office. It was a large space, walls artfully displaying books as though each and every one was priceless. He’d seen this kind of set-up before in the background of presidential portraits. He stood in the doorway as Hannibal made his way over to his leather seat and made himself comfortable. Will felt as though once he stepped through the door, it would shut and lock itself, trapping him within. However, as soon as he heard Hannibal's voice invite him inside, he did so without hesitation. His feet carried him as far the the chair opposite of Hannibal’s, though he not to take a seat, preferring to stand beside it instead.

“You think I need psychiatric help.” Was the first thing he said, looking down at Hannibal through the lenses of his thick glasses. 

Hannibal smiled and crossed his legs, adjusting his god-awful suit as he did so. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He questioned. Will watched the lines on his face without ever intending to. He noticed that the side of Hannibal's mouth was upturned in a smile. Will was unable to figure out if the man was mocking him or not. Without an immediate response, he continued. “It matters little what I think. Tell me, Will.” He said his name slowly. “Do you need help? Or are you comfortable where you are?”

Will’s thumb and forefinger found the stitching on the chair beside him and he began to idly pick at the thick threading. When he noticed Hannibal's gaze turn cold, he continued the actions with vigor. “I’m not entirely sure of where I am.” He answered finally, surprised at his own honesty.

“But are you comfortable?” He pushed. 

Will straightened his posture and turned his attention from the leather of the chair to his unofficial therapist. “I have never been satisfied with who I am, nor my position in the world.”

“And so you find consolation in being able to delve into the minds of the others.” Hannibal finished for him. Will found himself believing him. “Even if only for a moment. Even if these people happen to be killers.” He cocked his head to the side. Will couldn’t argue. “What would I find if I probed into your head, Will?” He asks. 

Hannibal was asking these questions to encourage the thoughts into Will's head, not necessarily to gain an answer to any of them just yet. He got one regardless. As Will's eyes hovered on Hannibal's, he answered. “Desire.”

Hannibal's grip on the soft leather of his chair tightened.  
“Desire is a very broad emotion to suggest. What is it exactly you crave, Will?” He asked, clear as ever while Will's voice shrunk away. Had it been anyone else, Hannibal would have expected a generic answer along the lines of sex or money, but the thick silence between them both suggested it was something different entirely, perhaps something that Will himself had not come to terms with. “May I remind you that I am bound by doctor/patient confidentiality?”

Will broke their gaze to chuckle. It was laughable that Hannibal assumed that confidentiality was the sole thing holding him back. Despite what was assumed of him, Will was an alpha. He didn’t carry himself like one and his suppressants made sure he didn't smell like one, but he still held the possessive characteristic of an alpha. He guarded his mind over his life.

“Goodbye, Dr. Lecter.” 

Five minutes into the session, Will’s feet had already carried him out of the room and into his car, where he sat for the remainder their session, had Hannibal not pushed him too far. It was a taunt, almost. He knew that Hannibal would be able to see his car from where he was seated, and he had full confidence that he would observe him until his next client arrived. Will was not a cocky person, but he made a living out of reading people and so he’d made a habit of it. His suspicions that Hannibal had assumed him a beta or an omega - as many people did - and was trying to manipulate him into a relationship were confirmed, given their last interaction. Because this happened often, Will was able to see right through his intentions, and was humming along to the radio as he drove home.


	2. The Dawn of Servility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, here we are again! believe me, I've been wanting to get the fic-ball rolling for ages, but the holidays are a stressful time for most. That aside, You can expect new chapters a week or two apart from one-another. Happy late New Years everyone!

Home couldn't have been the right word for the barren hotel room Will would spend the next few weeks occupying. He pushed open the scuffed, red door and was greeted with the underwhelming buzz of the television next door. He didn’t bother to turn on the lamp beside his bed, the street lights lining the highway outside his window were enough to wash the room in the dull glow he needed to brew the complimentary packet soup. It was almost offensive the conditions he’d been given to live in during his time at the FBI, but it was his only option. The money he made that didn’t go to paying off his small slice of land went to the dogs that occupied it, and the couple hundred left over was enough for Will to enjoy semi-decent meals thrice daily. For now, though, he would swallow his flavourless soup and get lost in the mindlessness of pay TV. 

He sat on the bed and stared down into his cup of soup, much the same as he had done with his coffee earlier that day, only this was much less appealing. He swallowed down two mouthfuls before deciding that it was degrading to even attempt to enjoy it, and sat it on his bedside table to get cold. Perhaps the maid that cleaned his room the next morning would take the feedback into consideration. He rubbed his face with a single hand and relaxed further into the hastily-made bed, deciding he would shower and shave himself tomorrow morning. As he fell asleep, the sounds from both his TV and the one next door mingled, manifesting themselves into Will’s dreams. 

When he opened his eyes, Will was sat in Hannibal's office, the other man hovering above him. Despite the location, all Will could focus on was the Hannibal of his dreams. The man, despite his rather recognisable features, was almost impossible to read accurately, which was a lot coming from someone who analysed human behavior to feed himself. Dr Lecter could be smiling, but Will would know his thoughts were anything but joyful. His mouth would curve downward in a frown, and Will would be completely aware that behind his expression lay the desire to patronise him, to prod and probe him. Hannibal wore that frown now as he reached out and placed a hand on Will's head, threading his fingers through his lengthy curls. Immediately, Will attempted to stop him, to raise his arms and push the other man away, however when he did so he found he was strapped to the chair he was in. He didn’t need to look to know they were leather cuffs, complete with polished silver hardware. Perfect for any up-and-coming omega or submissive-leaning beta. 

Will growled low in his throat, which was what any self-respecting alpha would have done in his situation. He thrashed and bared his teeth, tongue vibrating in a warning of what was to come if he wasn’t released. Hannibal cared little though, and continued to stroke Will’s hair as if he were an abandoned pup in need of a meal. The Doctor's fingers were long and precise from years of surgery and piano recitals. His fingers spread, pushing back the dark locks and leaning closer to the other, as if he wanted to see more of Wills snarled, ugly expression. He smiled when he got what he was looking for. Though they were still there, the lines on Will's face softened as the alpha moved his hand to the base of his skull, kneading firmly. Will resisted still, pulling on the restraints that held him fast to the lavish armchair. However, as Hannibal's hand traveled lower, now hovering other the side of his neck he gasped, and the cuffs came undone. Will threw himself forward in a struggle, reaching for Hannibal. However, his hands only met with the lumpy mattress below him, now soaked through with his sweat. 

He grunted and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, allowing his vision to adjust enough to focus on the blaring car insurance ad that had woken him. 

He groaned and reached across to the side-table to grab the remote and flick off the TV. Once he’d done so the room was plunged into darkness save for the low yellow light the streetlights provided. He stood -his entire body drenched in sweat- and walked towards the window that stretched above the kitchen sink. It wasn’t incredibly dirty, but it had been cleaned in such a way that the soap streaks were still visible.

He found his mind wandering back to his dream, but quickly dismissed it as nothing more than the alpha side of him begging to take control. Will peered out of the window, watching the empty street for anything exciting, anything at all. He leant against the kitchen counter, one hand dragging across his face, scratching the too-long stubble he promised himself he would get rid of sooner or later. He watched the empty street outside his window until the sun had risen and his sweat had dried. 

 

Time passed and Will worked diligently as he’d promised Jack he would, however despite delving into the minds of countless others, the single thing that remained the same was thoughts of Hannibal, and Will's sudden urge to overtake him. He had never felt the need to one-up another alpha before, and his curiosity as to what exactly was so special about Hannibal needed desperately to be sated. He sat in the same room he’d dreamt about a week before, only this time he made certain he didn’t seat himself in the chair as was expected of him. He'd performed this week’s display of dominance the previous session, and it was clear that it was beginning to get on Hannibal's nerves. He sat down anyway though, after Will refused his offer to do the same. He crossed one leg over the other and breathed deeply, leaving the air thick with tension before beginning to formulate his first question of the day. A simple one, nothing implied. All he had to gain from this was Will's trust, which he still very clearly had to work for. “How have you been, Will?” He asked. 

Will tried to imagine an intelligent response, but he for whatever reason couldn’t lie to the doctor. “I’ve… not been well.” He said in one rushed exhale. His eyes were steady on Hannibal's, defiant, and yet despite this Hannibal saw something akin to fear in his upturned brows and parted lips. Reservation, perhaps. Something had definitely changed since the last time they’d seen one-another in such a setting. “I’ve been having nightmares constantly. More regularly than before. They're almost nightly now.” He confessed. Breathing slow, he managed to restrict himself from relaying what exactly these dreams consisted of. 

“That's to be expected.” Hannibal started simply. “However, you’ve never come to me with concerns of your nightmares before now. Has something changed?” he asked, knowing well what the answer truly was. He was more interested in what Will was willing to tell him. Will only swallowed, not confident enough to give Hannibal either answer. Hannibal rose from his seat and took a step towards Will, leaving both of the men stranded in and isle of silence. Purely to let Will's mind churn, to allow him to think he had any chance at predicting Hannibal's next move. “Why don't you take a seat, Will.” Hannibal tested, his eyes narrowing. Will held his gaze where any previous omega or beta would yield, obeying him without question or struggle. However, Will was not either of those things, and so he held his ground.

“You seem awfully eager to see me submit to you.” He quipped back, though his voice shook with hesitation. Hannibal was getting closer, and yet Will didn’t notice his feet moving. All too soon, Hannibal was mere inches away from Will, and the two men shared the same air. Will panted, and Hannibal craved more.

Hannibal's hands stayed firmly planted behind his back, his fingers tangled around one-another to give him a slither of control over his body. “You seem awfully eager not to submit, for a beta. I won’t insult you anymore by continuing to assume you’re an omega.” He hoped that acknowledging what he understood to be Will's true gender would put him at ease, if only marginally. This would prove to be a mistake.

Will couldn't suppress his alpha urges anymore, and without realising it his top lip had been pulled back to reveal a neat row of teeth. The growl pulsed in his throat. This didn't seem to phase Hannibal though, who only raised an eyebrow. Inside his head however, he was backtracking at a hundred miles per hour. How in the hell had he missed this? The very basis of one's character in this day and age had completely managed to slip past him. Perhaps he’d been blindsided by what he wanted, and ignored the truth in favor of it. He still fought with himself, and eventually the part of him that wanted to control Will regardless of his secondary gender won. “Sit, Will.” He ordered the still-growling brunette in front of him. 

He didn’t receive the response he was hoping for, and instead Will leant forward to grab onto the collar of his shirt, pulling them closer together, letting flecks of spit decorate Hannibal's features. “You are not the first to pressure me to surrender.” He told the older alpha. “And make no mistake, you are no different from the rut-clouded drunks that urge me into alleyways.”

Hannibal grabbed Wills shoulders and turned him around, pressing the other alpha into the chair face-first. “I told you to sit.” He hissed into Will's ear, his inhales completely consisting of the others scent, a rich burnt whiskey that he could and would drown in. “It matters little to me that you are an alpha.” It was a lie, but one so well-told Will didn’t question it. Hannibal's body pressed against Will's back, the side of Will's face pressed into the seat of the chair. He was held there primarily by Hannibal's left hand, each of his five digits wrapping around his neck. These were the same hands he’d been dreaming of, but dreams could do this man no justice. A pool of saliva began to gather in the corner of Will's lips as he was forced to remain still, beneath one of his own kind. The word degenerate came to mind. “You will submit.” Hannibal insisted. 

“I won't.” Will replied, despite his labored breath. “I’d rather see you starve.”


	3. An act of Obedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the amazing gf (@jojiberries) Keep that crit coming! I'm open for requests again, too.

Hannibal watched the man splayed out before him, his arms clutching at the fabric of the chair he was forced down into. He took note of the natural curve in Will’s back, the way it perfectly arched to be level with his own waist. Despite Will denying it, they had the potential to fit together with the aid of some… minor adjustments. With Will relaxing a fraction into his touch, Hannibal stroked his thumb against the side of Will’s exposed neck, along his scent gland. With his other hand, he pressed between Will’s shoulder blades, forcing him further into the chair and only pausing when a low rumbling began to omit from the other alpha. The growling drew Hannibal's attention to Will’s mouth, where he was pleased to find a small gathering of glistening drool. He smirked. “If I starve, you will starve alongside me. Are you willing to suffer, Will? Or will you indulge yourself?”

For the first time, Will stopped squirming completely. He was quiet, too, and almost unreadable given Hannibal could hardly see his face. The world around them was still, holding its breath. None of the cars outside dared to interrupt them. “Don’t you see?” he finally said with a weak, twitching smirk. “This is my indulgence.” 

Hannibal didn’t respond. For once, he trusted Will to come to his own conclusion. Will attempted to escape Hannibal's grasp, and by doing so rocked his hips against his crotch. Even Will himself wasn’t entirely sure if it were intentional - Hannibal didn’t waver though, and the move only succeeded in getting Will pinned down harder than before. Hannibal's caresses of his neck were all too quickly morphing into a throttle. Clearly, Wills attempts at winning him over hadn’t worked the way he’d intended. “Hannibal.” He breathed. He could feel Hannibal's body press itself forward, and the hand that had previously been around his neck inching its way up his skull.

Perhaps Will had a little more foresight than he gave himself credit for, because within seconds the man was carding his hands through his hair in exactly the same way he had in one of his many dreams about him. Will briefly wondered how many more of these sick fantasies the doctor would indulge him in. He allowed it for one sweet moment, enough for both himself and Hannibal to savor the situation without getting used to the idea of it. The feeling was both grotesque and exquisite. He wasn't built to be coddled, but despite that he found himself arching into the touch. For a moment, he imagined that it could be like this.

Then without any prior warning, he drew a breath and flung himself backwards, hearing the crack of Hannibal's nose as the back of his head came into contact with him. His mind pounded, but with the exhilaration of the fiasco rather than the pain of it. He whipped himself around to see Hannibal clutching his nose with one hand, the other reaching out in an attempt to restrain Will again. Before he could though, Will had gripped both his hands and used that leverage to press Hannibal into his desk, where he then lay on top of crumpled documents and below Will, who looked at him with the same expression he himself had worn himself only moments ago. Instinctually, Hannibal attempted to cover his bleeding nose again. The pain was tormenting and minor, but sharp and present. Will held his hands fast to the desk though, and promptly sat himself on top of Hannibal, forcing him to lay - for the most past - flush against the desk. Will swallowed when he saw the damage he’d done. It was only a small smattering of blood above Hannibal's lips, but it was damage. He drew a shaking breath and repeated the phrase he’d said moments ago, only now it held a completely different meaning. “This is my indulgence.” It wasn’t necessarily the submission he enjoyed - it was the fight for it. Perhaps in time he’d learn, perhaps he and Hannibal would forever be caught in the back-and-forth. Hannibal strained to get up, but he couldn’t bring himself to push Will off completely, which was something he definitely could have done if he put his mind to it. He wanted to see what Will would do. The fear of him leaving and reporting Hannibal to the police was almost non-existent, but there was still so many things Will could do with him in this position. 

After a moment of silence only waning for the hot pants between them, Will licked his lips and continued. “Why don’t you tell me, Hannibal.” he asked, knuckles white around the doctors wrists. “Do you usually prefer to break down alphas, or do you usually lust after omegas like the rest of our kind?” Hannibal stared up at Will, watched his mocha-coloured curls spill. Will was impatient now, and rocked his hips forward in attempt to gain at least some reaction from Hannibal. Of course, this meant his own cock was starting to become intrigued in the situation unfolding. The only indication he gave of this was a short huff of breath, but that was all Hannibal needed. He wished his hands unbound now more than ever, if not to escape from under Will but to allow them free roam over the other alpha. Hannibal's own member throbbed with dull pleasure, but he kept his mouth shut. Will continued, rolling his hips forward, his eyes fluttering closed. “Would it be naive of me to assume I’m an exception?”

Hannibal nodded, eyes trained on Wills expression, looking for any breaks in his persona that he could dig his fingers into and crack open further. He found none, though, and came to the conclusion Will was acting as his mind told him to, no filters of decency or restraint to keep him from revealing himself. Hannibal's palms sweat and he found his bottom lip retracting into his mouth to be held in place by his teeth. “Incredibly naive.” He nodded. “Wrong, though? No.” Will rocked forward again, his mouth constantly slack to pull in the breaths of air he needed. It wasn’t a secret to either of them how Hannibal's words, his voice, affected Will. He licked his lips and spoke again, the unfamiliar urge of wanting to please another human pressuring him to continue. For once, his mind was unable to conjure up much of anything intelligent. “Will.” He breathed. 

Wills head fell forward, and the his lips came dangerously close to Hannibal's, whose breath hitched at the prospect of a kiss. He wasn't granted his fantasy though, instead Wills sweating forehead pressed against his own as he continued to grind down into him. They breathed into one-another, completely consumed. In that moment, Will could taste Hannibal as well as feel his trembling body beneath his own. His desperation. “Hannibal.” The word sounded so enticing to Hannibal, and his perception of Will shifted as it had so often in the last hour. He realised now that Will was as sexual as himself, an unforgiving force of humanity in its rawest for. In the moment, all filters between them dissipated. The organic pleasure of having another man grind down on his -despite him happening to be an alpha- was what he’d craved. He arched into Will, encouraging the man to continue moving. “Still.” Was his hissed response. 

“I must confess, Will. I didn't know you had it in you to be so controlling. You're not unlike any other alpha I’ve seen.” he said.

“That’s a lie.” Will huffed in response, and it was. By nature he was a pushover, and he’d never quite believe the claims about just how good it felt to dominate another person, and so he was overwhelmed with the pleasure he felt now that he’d finally indulged himself. “I’m a pushover.” He announced, though he knew he didn't have to. It seemed like now that he’d completely disclosed himself, he was unable to reverse the effects. Every thought, he spoke. 

Hannibal smirked, slyly, and attempted to hide his expression from Will. Obviously that didn’t work quite well given how close they were together. “And yet, you’re pinning me to my desk and using my body as a tool to pleasure yourself.” He stated. At his own reminder, his cock pulsed. It was in desperate need of attention, and his body begged him to chase that pleasure, even if it meant submitting to Will. Though he attempted to ignore it, he couldn't resist a stuttering push upwards into the other. The movement provided no relief. 

Will shivered, his body not used to receiving so much attention from another person, even if he knew well that his enjoyment was only a byproduct of Hannibal's desperation. “Only…” He began, then swallowed and tried again. His member ached in a way that was almost a warning to the rest of him, and understandably, it was somewhat distracting. “Only because you allow me to.”

“Is that what you' prefer to believe?” Hannibal asked, continuing to squirm now that he saw the reaction it drew from Will. “That you’re simply incapable of dominating me? That everything that happens here is out of your control? That pinning me to the desk was an act of mere defense and nothing else?” He looked up at Will, at his squeezed-shut eyes and thin lips, parted slightly. “You have far more potential than you allow yourself to believe, Will. this is your becoming.”

Will swallowed yet again, gathering himself. “Perhaps I need someone to show me what I can become.” Neither of them needed question who that person was. The air was thick with it. The desire, the control both men had over the other well as themselves. Will felt as if Hannibal was having a completely different conversation to him and yet… on some level, they were equal. 

His thoughts were interrupted by an impatient-sounding rap at the door. “Dr. Lecter?” Came a voice. Female, and one Will instantly recognised as Alana Bloom. His friend and, until a week ago, the subject of his romantic day-dreams. Now, the only emotion he had towards her was annoyance. He very nearly growled, but caught himself in time. “Hannibal, I swear to god-” She said, this retort louder than the last. 

Hannibal finally managed to remove himself from Wills grasp slightly, and pushed the other alpha off of him. Will had been too lost in his haze to do anything about the potential visitor at the door, but Hannibal, as always, managed to gather himself and address the situation at hand. “Alana, I’m in a session with a particularly…” He paused to mull over his choice of word. “...destitute client at the moment. Give me a minute.” In response, the woman on the other side of the door gave an exasperated sigh but took her seat in Hannibal's waiting room yet again, her heel tapping aggressively against the wooden flooring. 

Will finds a whine crawling towards his throat. He yet again ignored the deep-seeded need he has to submit and instead ran a sweating had through his hair, as if a minor touch-up of his curls would have influenced his appearance back into the realm of acceptable. “Hannibal.” He said once, low. He didn’t want Alana to hear him in here. If he had any friends, she would be one of them. 

Hannibal was already walking towards the door, his shoulders back and his face as neutral as it had always been. Bastard. Will swore to himself he’d find a way to wipe that expression off of Hannibals face- or come to enjoy it. Whicher came first. “Leave through the other door.” Hannibal instructed him. It wasn’t as pleasant as leaving through his waiting room, but it had to be there for situations such as these. Doctor/patient confidentiality and all. Will did so without responding and was soon back at his car, fumbling with the keys to open it. Once he was inside his car, unlike last time, he drove off immediately.


End file.
